


The War Against Ourselves

by Kentako



Category: VALORANT (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, Other, Polyamory, Possible Character Death, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:10:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26460127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kentako/pseuds/Kentako
Summary: Depression is a horrible beast that Cypher had to deal with alone. In his workshop. With a blade in his trembling hands every time he felt that he wasn't good enough. He had tried so hard to keep this bad habit and his 'illness' from the other agents in Valorant, but it became increasingly harder as the days went by. Sova and Omen try to help him, but they worry that he may be too far gone to save him from himself.*TRIGGER WARNING*This fic was inspired by the song 'The War Against Ourselves' by Sew Intricate
Relationships: Cypher/Omen (VALORANT), Cypher/Omen/Sova (VALORANT), Cypher/Sova (VALORANT)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to rewrite this again because I fucked up and clicked the wrong button so I'm just gonna say that the previous note was pretty emotional but i forgot what I wrote and I pressed a button and its all gone HAH. but enjoy the fic, I'm actually so mad at myself >:( But I'm really relieved that the summary stayed ok i didn't plan that out beforehand and I would have been SO MAD if it cut out >:( I should probably save it-
> 
> Proofread and edited all by me, so please pardon any mistakes that I may have made, and enjoy the fic !
> 
> Definition of polyamory: Polyamory (from Greek πολύ poly, "many, several", and Latin amor, "love") is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the informed consent of all partners involved. It has been described as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy". (From Google Wiki)

Chapter 1  
________________  
Cypher let out a quiet whimper as he walked through the corridors of the valorant headquarters. His leather boots echoing through the empty corridors as he hurriedly made his way to the place that he called his safe space, his workshop.

Another failed mission. More gadgets broken and more casualties all because his camera malfunctioned halfway through the mission rendering it completely useless. His traps wouldn't go off at the press of his buttons but at least his tripwires worked, right ? He did catch the enemy Raze and Jett with it before they destroyed it.

He managed to get the ‘OK’ from Brimstone to allow him to skip out on the mandatory briefing that the others had to attend just so that he would be able to fix his camera, as nothing this bad has happened to any of his equipment before. 

He tried to convince himself that he wasn't the most useless teammate on their team. He tried, oh god he tried. But alas, self-deprecating thoughts kept on creeping up on his wave of hopeful ones. It was already bad enough that he was in such bad shape.

Over the past few months, he knew that something was happening to him. He just didn't know what the trigger was. He was losing his appetite, and getting increasingly irritated with himself and his teammates as the days passed. He felt more and more worthless each mission he went on with his teammates, be it a victory or a loss, and no matter how hard he clutched each time their clones came back for more, he absolutely could not be happy with his skill. He felt numb.

No matter how much praise his team feeds him, he knew that he would never be good enough for them. Never. His pace quickened. He didn't want to think about this right now, but yet here he was. Overthinking everything. His breathing started to increase. He balled his fists. It was happening again.

‘What is happening to me?’

It can't be. He was sure that it was a panic attack. He must get to his workspace quickly. He needed his remedy. He needed this to all go away so that he can be of some form of use to the team again. Nobody likes a useless tool. He needed to improve for the team. He needed to. 

The ground started to shake and his vision started to blur.

‘Almost there, Aamir, keep it together until then.’

He could almost smell the familiar smells of the place that he called his ‘home’. He could feel its welcoming presence sucking him in and the familiar sights soothing his beating heart and trembling body. 

He was silently pleading that no one would run into him and see him in such a sorry state. He was walking as fast as his tired body could manage.

‘They would probably laugh at me if they see me like this. What a pathetic excuse of a man are you.’

His workshop was in sight. He just needed to get to it. He had never felt happier in his life. He knew that his workshop was a place that he could let loose, and be himself without anyone’s intense stares of judgement. His brisk walking turned into leaps then into short sprints.

He was shaking. He was bruised. He was tired. That all changed, however, in a matter of five minutes. When he managed to get into his safe place, lock it, and haphazardly place his last remaining tripwire on the door so that he would be alerted if anyone even dared to even try to invade his space. 

Cypher knew that he needed to fix his equipment, but he needed to feel some sense of relief before he could even think about work. With shaking hands, he hastily picked up a beautiful silver blade that was thrown carelessly on his work desk. He was going to work, yes, but not on his equipment, not just yet. He needed to feel something. He needed to feel anything, apart from what he has been feeling for the last couple of months. He took off his mask. He needed to breathe. The tears started to fall, as did he, onto his knees. On the cold hard floor. He could barely take the guilt of crying, so he covered his face.

‘You're so disgusting. I cant believe that you're crying over something so stupid.’ 

His chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, and cypher had to make a stern mental note to himself that he was not going to let out any unnecessary noises and ugly sobs to get him caught by his superiors or by his teammates, as their briefing room was not that far away from his workshop. Cypher sat down, and hugged his knees. He looked at the blade that reflected his stunning azure eyes, but he hated it. He hated every aspect about himself. From his ever so slightly curly raven hair, to his scarred and bruised tanned skin. He knew that every part of himself was disgusting. He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror for goodness sake because he knew that what he would see was just a worthless shell of a human man that could achieve nothing in his lifetime.

He yanked his long white sleeves up, as impatient and ashamed as the last time that he did this to himself, which was not long ago considering that there were still brand new swollen and reddened scars and incisions on the same wrist. He didn't care if he might reopen the old cuts with the brand new ones that he made. He just wanted to feel the feeling of pain that no bullet wound or clone could inflict on him. With his hands still shaking, and toxic thoughts running through his mind, he made the first slit. 

Then another. 

Then another. 

Then another.

Cypher didn't know how many times he slashed at his skin, but he knew that it was enough to calm him down, for the time being. The thick crimson blood slowly flowed down his slender muscular arms to the ground, making the blood pool under the information broker bigger and bigger by each passing minute. Cypher didn't care, though. He was calm. He felt happy. He knew that it was worth it, even though he had made a big mess of his workshop.

But that was what his workshop was for. It was so that he could make up an easy excuse to get out of any hard questions that his teammates may ask if they ever do manage to step into his workshop without tripping any alarms. The only person who could do that is Omen, with his ‘teleporting abilities’. But the shadow had better things to do than snoop in some useless trash workshop, right ? what would he find anyway? It wasn't as if Cypher was doing anything that was putting his career at risk. As long as he was fit to fight and can go onto the battlefield and fool his teammates to prevent them from reaching out for help, he would at least try to continue to live this pathetic life that he has been so unfortunately gifted with. And that was exactly what he did, after many, many, many self-deprecating thoughts.

‘Alright Aamir, let's get back to work.’

The moroccan got up, and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. A big smile now plastered on his face, forming indentations on the sides of his cheeks. He always felt better after a few good slices to the skin. It was as if he had completely changed into a different man. 

He cleaned himself up haphazardly using some old dirty rags that were left behind after some of his fixes to compress on his crying cuts, not really caring for his own safety but more for the fact that the blood would stain his precious floor if it were to stay on the ground for too long. The blood did not clot properly, it never does, so cypher got out his emergency kit and tore off the packaging of the roller bandage that he had inside. He quickly wrapped his arm up before finishing with a small ‘crocodile pin’ as he liked to call it to keep the bandage in place. He was happy with his work, but the moroccan knew that it would only be a matter of hours before he had to remove the bandage so that the blood would not seep out. 

Cypher was tired, from both the mission and from the amount of blood that he had just lost, but the moroccan still carried on with his duties of repairing his equipment, even though the cuts under his bandage rubbed painfully against the edges of his work desk. He just embraced the pain and continued on with his work, not really noticing that, in reality, someone may have tripped his wire.  
________________

Depression is a filthy beast. It cares for neither good nor evil. It chews and gnaws at your energy levels and pummels you to the ground like a savage monster. Cypher was no stranger to this, but god, oh god, why did it have to be now ? of all times? Why now?!

He woke up today feeling like the absolute lowest of the low. He thought that once he slept it off, he would have felt better. Absolute dogshit. The moroccan had a terrible nightmare that he himself couldn't decipher and woke up with a pounding headache. As if that wasn't enough for the poor lad, he had to go on a mission to bind, the place where he specifically requested not to go because of all the upsetting memories and trauma that he had faced before he became a valorant agent. 

His old workshop was there too, but he could never visit. It was always against the guidelines to wander off in case any of their clones were lurking in the shadows like hungry prey just waiting to pounce on them. 

He situated himself at B, and placed all his equipment at the necessary place, praying that they won't fail like the last time. That would be bad. Real bad. Brimstone expected all of his equipment to be up and working by the time this mission came, but Cypher didn't have enough time to test all of it because he was busy trying to calm himself down from the attacks.

They have become more frequent as the days passed, and he feared that he may have one during a mission which will just result in another failure. No. He could not accept that fate. He would not accept it. He felt his breathing hitch, then his chest started to rise and fall at a rate that he did not approve of. The broker started shaking. He definitely knew that he was going to have another attack, and dear god, it felt horrible. He was situated at B hall while Omen was pushing at B garden. He promised to cover him. His camera would catch all of those pesky clones that even dared to try to sneak up on such a creature like him. He knew that he had to do something in order to help his teammate stay alive, but the more pressure he put on himself to keep Omen safe, the more panicked and anxious he became. 

He turned off his communicator, making an audible buzzing noise before he got cut from the team, but he didn’t care. He just needed space. He needed some time to breathe. This place did bring back some memories that Cypher had been traumatised by during his childhood but he had to suck it up for the mission. He took his eyes off the electronic device that he gripped tightly in his hand and raised his mask just enough to reveal his refined nose and slim lips. 

‘It's going to be quick, no one will find out what's wrong with you.’ 

Cypher cupped his shaking hands together and brought it close to his face. Just as he was about to start his breathing exercises, he heard an explosion. Raze. It had to be a clone. She destroyed his tripwire. The moroccan staggered to the sound of the explosion with careless caution, still shaking from the panic and anxiety that he was currently facing, and the possible death that he may receive in a few seconds if he wasn't careful. 

He wondered where Omen was. He had to have heard that explosion, yet why isn't he coming? He slowly walked up to the direction of the sound, and was met face-to-face with three clones. One of himself, Phoenix and Jett. He knew that this wasn't good. His quick reflexes allowed him to headshot the enemy Phoenix and severely injure his clone to the point where he had to fall back to get healed but he ran out of ammunition and tried to run. Unfortunately the enemy Jett managed to nip him on the shoulder and on the ankle with her blade storm. Cypher knew that he couldn't scream for help, that would draw their attention towards him and Omen, and it made it worse that he had cut his communicator earlier to take a breather. He was in a real tough situation and he could only hope that he would make it out of this alive. But then again, he wouldn't mind trying to be beaten senseless by the clones. He was tried, and he was alone.

The worst thing that could happen to his teammates would be to find out that he had overextended on enemy territory, (probably could make it look like a flank gone wrong while chasing his clone) and got headshotted by one of the clones. Not bad for an 'accidental' death. He wanted to try it. He wanted to feel what it was like to die. He was being more reckless than usual. He was a sentinel, he knew he had to stay at point, or at the very least, stay back and let the Duelists take over. But the curiosity got the better of him, and he started to venture out to the enemy territory.

He finally felt something other than that numb feeling of worthlessness and self-hate. He was still shaking from his unattended attack, but it had surprisingly calmed down ever so slightly once he started to venture out into the enemy territory. The feeling was indescribable. He felt excited, and afraid. The fear of being caught unguarded and defenseless. Cypher knew very well that he was definitely not very mobile as compared to Jett or Raze, and he definitely would probably not be able to react in time to recalibrate the shots that may be fired onto him, but he didn’t care. 

The information broker felt restless, he knew that the dripping blood that he was secreting was not a good sign, and that their clones would be able to follow the droplets of blood to his location.

Walking through A lobby he heard the faintest footsteps behind him. He had no more tripwires left. All of them were used to safely secure the B site. The moroccan’s shoulders tensed. He cursed under his breath. He thought that he wanted to die. What was happening to him? What was this reaction? He was confused, and his sight started to blur, probably from the lack of blood that was in his system at the moment. 

‘Hah, there you are, you little shit. I'll make you pay for killing my friends!’ 

Jett’s voice rang through his ears. There was no way that he could react to such a fast clone. He couldn't kill her when he wasn't injured, so how in the hell could he kill her when she got a good chunk of health off him?!

He cursed under his breath and tried to hobble away, but to almost no avail. She had her blade storm ready, and she was charging towards the poor man. Really fast. Cypher knew that this was his punishment for leaving his designated post. This was what he wanted after all. All he could do was grip his operator tightly and tightly close his eyes while waiting for the impact of those sharp blades on his skin, but they never came. 

The information broker heard gunshots, and snapped his eyes open and turned around, only to be met by none other than the shadow himself.

He looked pissed. Really pissed.

‘What the hell are you doing here, Cypher?! You could have died if I wasn't already looking for this pesky little cunt! Do you have a death wish or something?!’

The shadows' voice was scary, Cypher would admit that much. The low growl that emitted from his throat after added to his intimidating nature. A part of him was disappointed that the kill didn’t follow through, but a large part of him was relieved that Omen came at just the right time to save him from Jett’s terrifying clone.

‘Uh I-’ 

Cypher couldn't properly formulate his words, feeling the attack slowly coming back to haunt him for not taking care of it earlier. He choked. The poor man didn't know what to say to the phantom to convince him that he wasn't trying to kill himself. 

Omen glared daggers at Cypher, waiting impatiently for the information broker’s answer, crossing his hands sassily over his chest. Another low growl emitted from his throat when Cypher couldn't answer him. Cypher always knew that he was an impatient man. He approached Cypher in a way that made him hold up his hands defensively over his face. Omen didn't stop, though, and grabbed him by his left wrist and yanked him aggressively, closing whatever distance they had between them. His long nails dug deep into his flesh and reopened any recovering cuts that the information broker had hidden so cautiously with bandages under his white exterior coat. Cypher could feel Omen’s hot breath surrounding the right side of his covered face, but he could care less about the lack of distance between them considering the immense amount of pain that the shadow had just put him through.

‘Don't show it, Cypher. Don't you dare.’

Cypher cringed, hoping that Omen would think that it was not about anything else other than the fact that they were close to one another. A little bit too close, he would say. He would refuse to show him any form of weakness in front of this man.

The shadow leaned close, and whispered into his ear.

‘I know what you do in that small workshop of yours, care to show me what you've done, little engineer?’ 

And just like that, Cypher’s mind went blank.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello ! thank you for all the support that you have been giving me for the first chapter ! i honestly didnt expect this to be as popular as it is right now, so all i can say is thank you, really, for the support ! thank you for allowing me to express myself and thank you for enjoying this fic as much as i enjoy writing this :D proof reading and editing was done mostly by me, and for the first bit, my best friend, (thank you btw kaymi i really appreciate it ;w;) i wont bother you with this long ass thing, enjoy !

Cypher was at a loss of words. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute. He had so many questions to ask the phantom. He made sure that his workshop was not that easily accessible to the other valorant agents, but this phantom immortal man somehow managed to get past all his tripwires? Cypher knew what Omen was capable of, but he didn’t expect him to actually be able to get into his workshop that was full of traps that would have easily notified the information broker of someone’s entry. Damn, he knew that Omen was more capable and slippery than the other agents, but he didn’t expect him to be this capable of not tripping a single wire, right? He wasn't invisible after all, so his wires must have, should have, caught him one way or another. He had tried to place it such that you couldn't jump or crouch under it to get in, but alas, Omen could have crawled under it or something along those lines. Cypher could barely think straight, but he had to force himself to.

'Breathe, Cypher. Just tell him what you tell everyone else. That will be able to convince him and get him off your back.'

The moroccan opened his mouth, with his stellar answer prepared and at the tip of his tongue, but then closed it immediately and clenched his teeth once the shadow gripped the information broker's wrist with a much greater force than he had used before, his nails digging even deeper into his torn skin. Even though Cypher could hide his facial expressions behind his mask, there was no possible way of hiding the flinches his body made with every touch that the shadow gave him. Not because Cypher liked it or anything (at least, he didn't think so. He hadn’t been touched in a while by anyone so this new feeling may have also caused him to flinch), but because the pressure that the phantom put on his wrist was pretty much unbearable for the poor man. 

He shrivelled under the throbbing pain the shadow exerted on his wrist, legs about to give way, and was prepared to gently ask Omen to let go. He knew that there was only so much time he could use up until the blood started to seep from the bandages that he had tightly wrapped around his bruised and bloodied wrists.

'Omen... you of all people should know what I do in my workshop… argh... Just the regular fixes and repairs and all those boring electronic things that I enjoy doing.'

Omen didn't let go, though. Not until he got the answer that he wanted to hear from Cypher. 

Cypher knew that his pristine white sleeve would eventually get soaked with his own blood, feeling some blood droplets already forming under his bandages. The area where Omen tightly held him was already dyed with drops of his blood, but the shadow didn’t take note. Either that, or he didn't care, and just wanted an answer from the moroccan.

The distance between them was still unspeakably close, but it was slowly getting bigger as the seconds passed. Cypher wanted to get out so bad, his body screaming at him to run as fast as he could and to just not look back, even despite the deep wounds that the air assassin had given to him just a few minutes prior. He didn't care if he had to hobble away, he didn't care if he just had to rip his wrist out of the shadow’s clutches, he just wanted to get out of this horrible situation that he had gotten himself into. He regretted ever even trying for the flank in the first place, and he regretted overthinking about Omen’s safety. The man clearly had it under control. If he had not intervened, this scenario wouldn't have even come up in the first place. 

Cypher felt the attack slowly creeping up on him again, but this time, it felt a hundred times worse. His vision started to blur and become hazy (probably from the amount of blood that he had lost and the tears that were forming in his eyes), and his chest started to rise and fall even more than the last time he had an attack.

The moroccan let out heavy pants, and using his other free hand, ripped the lower part of his mask off his face with a force so great that it almost actually ripped the strong material that he used to keep his mask together.

He felt that this time, he was actually about to die.

The broker’s sudden action caught Omen off-guard, and he quickly released his death grip on the poor man’s already blood soaked white sleeve. Omen didn’t know that this was what he was going to get for gripping Cypher’s wrist with such an intense passion.

His legs couldn't hold him up for any longer. Cypher dropped to the ground, onto his knees, but even that didn't manage to keep him stable. He fell again, this time on his side. His white hat tipped, and flew to an unknown location. He felt lightheaded, and the moroccan knew that he had to act fast, if he didn't want any attention drawn to him. There was nothing he could say to Omen now to convince him now that there was nothing wrong with him, he just had to hope and pray that what he saw today will be kept between the two of them.

He shakily brought his hands up to his nose and mouth, and tried to calm himself, but it wasn’t working out the way that he planned it to be. With the shadow planted on the ground watching in utter shock, it was almost impossible for the poor man to do his breathing exercises properly (on top of the throbbing pain that emitted from his left wrist). He tightly shut his eyes, and tried to block out the penetrating stare that he got from the phantom. 

Cypher was panicking.

He could not snap himself out of this, and he knew too well that Omen couldn’t do anything to help him either. He felt himself losing consciousness. His chest was rising and falling at an alarming rate, and even faster than before. Cypher actually thought that he was going to die. He needed help. No, he wanted it.

The moroccan was so caught up trying to calm himself that he hadn't realised that Omen had disappeared. To get help. He heard running, but was too disorientated to react accordingly. 

‘Cypher? Please follow my instructions, alright? It's going to be okay.’

Cypher snapped open his eyes, and looked directly at the source of the heavy accent but couldn't clearly see the figure as his eyes were blocked by the tears that were pooling in his eyes. He was tired but knew that the figure was cautiously inching towards him as if he were some kind of hurt feral animal. The moroccan was still taking heavy breaths, but with each deep inhale that he took, the weaker he became. 

‘Cypher, please listen to me…’

The voice was so calming. Cypher felt his racing heart slow down, but he was still unable to properly make out the figure that was talking to him. His eyelids started to droop. God he was so tired. He closed his eyes once more.

‘Sova this isn't working! He's going to die!’

The deep spine-chilling voice that suddenly appeared out of nowhere made Cypher start to panic again, but was immediately shut down by the same, heavy Russian accent. 

‘Quiet, Omen...you do not know...this situation...I do...please give me...time alone with Cypher...he is...afraid…’ 

Those were the few words that the information broker managed to retain from the conversation between the two men. A few seconds later, he felt strong warm hands prop him up from his fetal position. Cypher tensed. He felt apprehensive but all he could do was put up a bit of a struggle in the arms of the larger man.

Sova comforted him.

‘Shh shh… Cypher, everything is going to be alright. It's me, Sova. Your friend. I’m only here to help you.’

The moroccan couldn't open his eyes, and felt too weak and tired to move his other body parts, but the Russian hunter had him covered.

Sova carefully placed the moroccan between his legs, and rested the back of his head on his chest. The hunter was well aware that the mission was yet to be over, but he asked Omen to check the perimeters for him to make sure that the enemy Sage and Cypher were nowhere near them. The exercise that he was doing with Cypher was important, and it was to ensure that he would be stable enough to walk and talk about this later. 

Sova was definitely not going to let this slide from the smaller man. 

Cypher fell to Sova’s side due to the lack of blood and oxygen that was pumping in his system, but thankfully, Sova had positioned his hands in such a way that it would stabilise the smaller man should he fell. He didn't build up all that muscle for nothing after all. The blood from his encounter with the wind assassin leaked onto the hunter, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the information broker’s well-being. 

‘Cypher, please listen to me, alright? You're going to be alright, once we’re done we will let Sage take care of your injuries alright ?’ 

Cypher let out a whimper, and tried to struggle out of the hunter’s grip with to no avail. The moroccan was well aware that the bigger Russian was way stronger than him, but he had to try. He didn't want to go to Sage. Dear god he really didn’t want to go to Sage. It was already bad enough that Sova and Omen were aware of his most recent attack, and he didn’t want more people getting involved in his own problems. Cypher’s attack started to act up and he tried to struggle out of Sova’s gentle grip again at just the mention of going to Sage, so the hunter decided to use a different approach on the smaller man.

‘Alright, Cypher. I won't take you to Sage, alright? But you have to promise me that you will have to talk to me later, okay?’

The moroccan whimpered again, and tried harder to escape the clutches of the Russian hunter, again, to no avail. 

‘Cypher, I'm not letting you go. Please stay calm, I won’t do anything to hurt you, alright?’ 

The hunter's voice was so calming, Cypher was extremely tired, so he finally managed to give in to the bigger man and calm down. Kind of.

His whimpers slowly erupted into soft sobs, tears staining the inside of his mask, but on the outside, it was as if he wasn't crying (The only way that Sova could even tell that the moroccan was crying was that his mask was still pulled up). The mask absorbed most of the bodily fluids that he secreted during his missions with the team. Mostly sweat and maybe some blood here and there, but rarely, almost never, tears.

He turned to face Sova but didn't look at him, wrapped his arms tightly around his huge structure and buried his face into his chest. He was embarrassed at the fact that the hunter had to see him in such a sorry state, but he definitely needed to hug something to try to calm himself down. Cypher definitely knew that there was absolutely no way that Sova or Omen would believe any of the excuses that he might make up after what just happened. Sova just sat there with his arms wrapped securely around the moroccan man as his sobs turned into quiet whimpers. 

Sova wanted to help him, as best as he could, but he just didn't know how to. He only knew how to comfort Cypher when he had his attack, and nothing else.

Sitting on the hot hard stone floor was the least of Sova’s worries though. He was still on guard in case the enemy Cypher and Sage were lurking in the shadows. He hadn't heard any gunshots, and his team didn't say anything on their communication devices too. He was getting increasingly worried by each passing second. With Cypher tightly gripping his body, and being unable to move from the somewhat awkward position that he was in, the hunter would definitely be at a disadvantage if any of the clones were to find him and Cypher huddled closely together. 

The ground rumbled. Sova’s ears twitched, he heard something. He just didn't know what it was. Being a hunter all these years, he had to have sharpened senses in order to hunt with his pack during the cold and brutal winters in Russia.

The hunter reached for the ghost in his holster, getting ready to fire if necessary. If it were to be that he would have to encounter their clones, he would be at a major disadvantage.

The hunter heard the soft clicking of soles meeting the ground, and held Cypher close. He had to protect him. The poor man had gone through hell today, and he knew that he needed to take a break from the mission after seeing him at his lowest, balling his eyes out and gripping him tightly as if he were a scared child who had just lost his entire family. 

The footsteps got closer.

Sova took a deep breath, and holding up his Ghost to around head height, prepared to shoot.

He saw someone turn a corner, and without thinking, he shot. 

He was going to protect Cypher, no matter what.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello ! im so sorry that i took such a long time to update this fic, i didnt forget about it i promise ! its just that i had nationals and i needed to focus on those because they only come once a year and it took me four years of studying to take it so its basically an important exam to me. anyways, i hope that you will enjoy this chapter ! i read all the comments, and i really tried my best to use more of their names and descriptions and stuffs (thank you for the advice Avinychus i really appreciate it :D) i wasnt really very happy with this one, because i felt that there was something that it really lacked, so i waited before posting it. im still not really happy with it, but ill try my best to make the next chapter a better one ;w; thank you for all your support again ! i really appreciate each and every one of you who reads my content ! ;w; thank you so much! i hope to make you happy in the next chapter as well ;w; sorry for the long note, i just thought that i'd explain myself as to why the long wait

Cypher immediately flinched at the sound of the gunshot and tried to use the remaining strength he had to get up, but it was to no avail as the moroccan was too weak and fell back on Sova.

The Russian hunter was too preoccupied to notice the smaller man's movements, but his other free arm was still holding the moroccan tight. He was more fixated on the body that he had just shot down. 

It was the enemy Sage. 

This made the hunter worry. If she’s here, then where's the enemy Cypher? Doesn't sage always stay in the backlines with her team? Does that mean that the enemy Cypher was here, lurking in the shadows somewhere? Oh dear god, he hoped and prayed that the clone wasn't in close proximity to them. Sova managed to hit his shot on her, but he knew the dire consequences of shooting in such an open aired environment. It attracts their predators to their location, and Sova and Cypher were the perfect pair to be caught unguarded and ripped to shreds. 

‘Cypher, dear, we have to go now, okay? Are you strong enough to stand?’ 

Sova was so preoccupied with his surroundings and keeping Cypher safe that the larger man didn’t notice his use of ‘dear’ on the smaller man, and neither did Cypher. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the language that was being used on him.

‘Aamir.. There you go again, reeling other people into your own problems just like how you reeled in Nora with your pitifulness.’

Cypher’s mind was a beast, a relentless one that would stop at nothing to degrade him and mock him until he was nothing more than a shrivelled shell of a man that resided in this useless and pathetic body. The smaller man couldn't take it for much longer, this crippling voice in his head that was constantly mocking and probing at his every flaw and mistake that he made, every small detail amplified and shoved in his face. 

‘Cypher? Are you with me? Please resp-’

The older man got cut off by a shot that was fired at point blank range. 

Cypher snapped out of his depressive train of thought and looked up at the hunter with worry laced throughout his facial expressions, although it wasn't able to be seen by Sova. The smaller man was unable to properly control his emotions at this point in time, mainly because he was so badly injured, and also because he was genuinely worried about the larger man. Sova got shot on the shoulder, trying to protect Cypher.

The enemy Cypher took this chance while they were both distracted to come out of hiding and engage the vulnerable pair that was sitting on the ground, at his mercy. 

It was too late, Sova wasn't able to react in time for the enemy’s Cypher’s push… but Omen was.

The shadow had impeccable aim, and the fastest reaction time that Sova had ever seen. Within a blink of an eye, the clone lay dead on the hot desert floor, blood oozing out of the bullet holes that the shadow had put in it.

Omen heaved a heavy sigh of relief and lowered his gun. If he had been just a few seconds late Cypher would have… No. He didn't want to think of the consequences if he hadn't arrived at that exact moment.

The hooded man blocked out these thoughts, and approached the pair on the floor with some extent of caution so as to not spook Cypher again, and extended a hand out so that Sova would be able to get up with ease, as well as slowly lift up the fragile information broker that he had kept safe in his arms.

Sova took Omen’s hand, and got up with much effort. He had just been shot at point blank range after all, so it would be no doubt that his injury would be excruciatingly painful and almost unbearable to withstand. Sova just pushed through this pain, however, knowing that Cypher’s several injuries were more worrying than his singular gunshot wound. 

Omen examined the state that Cypher was in. He had suffered a panic attack not too long ago, and barely managed to escape the enemy Jett’s Blade Storm that left him unable to walk properly due to the huge gash to his ankle.

‘He’s not looking good, Sova. We need to take him to Sag-’

Before Omen could even finish, Sova was quick to shut him up before the moroccan could hear the healer’s name and panic again.

‘No, we’re not going to her.’

The glare that Sova gave to Omen after was an extremely dirty one, one that Omen couldn't help but feel a little bit offended by. He did save the both of them from a near death experience after all, only to be thanked by a dirty look from one of the most innocent looking agents of valorant? 

Sova struggled a little to lift up Cypher, as the gunshot wound that he had sustained was making itself even more obvious than ever before. Despite the dirty look that Sova gave him, Omen decided to help him and lifted the moroccan gently off the ground and into his arms.

‘Fine, no Sage. Let's just get back to safety.’

Omen was cautious not to say Sage’s name too loudly in fear that Cypher may get all panicky again. 

The smaller man said nothing, and neither did the other two, walking in complete silence until they almost reached the meeting point where the agents were supposed to meet after their mission for a head count. 

‘I’m fine now. Thank you for the help, Sova. Omen. I think I'm able to walk by myself now.’

Cypher’s words were so soft that it was barely audible by the two men. Despite his wishes, Omen just pretended not to hear him and didn't put the smaller man down, not until they were closer to the meeting point so that Cypher wouldn't have to further injure himself by walking a little bit more. Sova seemed to agree with his decision to continue to carry the moroccan, as he hadn't said anything against Omen not putting Cypher down. All Cypher could do was wiggle a little in the phantom’s arms to try to get him to release his grip on him, but to no avail as Omen wasn't going to let Cypher fall from his arms.

Sova and Omen eventually realised that if they were to carry the small moroccan man for any longer, the others would get suspicious as to why Omen was carrying him in the first place and so, upon his previous wishes to be put down, they put the smaller man down. Cypher didn't want any attention drawn to him, so they made sure that he got what he wanted. Even though Sage will be attracted to him by his multiple wounds that have made itself known on his pristine white jacket exterior.

Cypher was undoubtedly embarrassed by all the previous actions that he had just done in front of his two teammates and thought to try to brush it all off by using his regular sweet talks and confident body language to try to convince them that he was fine the next time they were to meet again after this incident, be it in the hallways or another mission that had placed the trio unfortunately together. But he knew that they would not fall for it. After all, it was extremely hard to change into his alter ego with just a snap of his fingers. He still had to try.

‘T-thank you, Sova, Omen, for the assistance. I'll be on my way now.’

Without looking at either men Cypher turned away from the two and cussed under his breath. He started to feel the presence of the heat insulating in his white coat more than he did before. Why did he stutter? His acting was starting to falter, and it made Cypher worry and become increasingly jittery. He didn't know why he was still acting as though he didn't just have an attack in front of these two men. Maybe it was because he didn't want them to treat him differently because they found out that he was different from the other agents in valorant. 

Cypher didn't really know what was happening or what he was doing at this point in time, everything was just a big blob of mess in his mind, and all he wanted to do was just to lock himself up in his room for days at a time and maybe even never come out again so that he could try to forget everything that he had just experienced with the two other men. That wasn't possible, though. He had to soldier through the embarrassment and the immense amount of shame and guilt that overtook him until he could go back to headquarters.

His pace started to quicken. Even though he was injured, Cypher didn't really experience any pain at that point in time. He couldn't really feel anything. He just wanted to get back to valorant headquarters.

‘Just hold it a little while longer, Aamir… you're almost going to go back home.’

Home. Huh, what a funny way to put it. He never really thought of valorant as his home, he just thought of it as his residing place that he had to stay in. The moroccan never really got along with the other agents that well now that he thought of it, mainly brimstone and breach, his superiors, because they couldn't stand the facade of this man. With all the playful banter and teasing, how could they anyways? 

Cypher let out a heavy sigh, completely unaware of his surroundings and the two larger men who were slowly stalking him in the distance just to ensure that he was safe and away from harm's way. Just because Omen put him down, doesn't mean that they will just act as if nothing had happened to their comrade. 

‘How should we approach him? I don't think that he will talk that easily when we are back at base.’ 

The hunter thought for a moment, then spoke.

‘I have an idea, but I don't think he’s going to like it that much. Hell, it may be a huge invasion of his privacy. But are you still with me on this one? If not for me, will you do it for Cypher?’

Without hesitation, the shadow immediately replied.

‘For Cypher, I’ll do my best.’

This surprised Sova, but he didn't let that show. He never really thought that Omen was that kind of a person who cared deeply for his team. He definitely doesn't look it, but looks can be deceiving, as Sova learnt today from the small moroccan man.

‘That's good to hear.’

Sova had no idea what the hell he was saying, or what the hell he was going to plan to make Cypher open up to him, but he was just dead set on protecting the small moroccan man. He didn't want to repeat his past mistakes. Not again. Not ever.


End file.
